Follow Me Home
by violetteacup
Summary: He had bathed in the Styx, and seen into Tartarus, and considered himself comparatively well versed on the Underworld and the process of death and dying. But the grand plans he made in his life went awry in a blazing glory, and it really wouldn't make sense if his death was any different. AUish.
1. Prologue

**Follow Me Home**

_He had bathed in the Styx, and seen into Tartarus, and considered himself well versed on the Underworld and the process of death and dying. Resurrecting Titan kings could give that kind of insight, before it inevitably went wrong. (Okay, he hadn't seen that last part coming). But the grand plans he made in his life went awry in a blazing glory, and it really wouldn't make sense if his death was any different._

Prologue

For all his bravado on Mt. Olympus to Annabeth, he never really intended to try for the Isles of the Blest. Luke Castellan was _tired._ Possession by aspiring Titan overlords, he assumed, did that to a person. Okay, as did plotting the overthrow of sitting gods. She had said something about Elysium, but he would have taken the Fields of Asphodel gladly if it got him out of his throbbing body quickly, giving him a chance to rest, to stop _thinking_, a break from the constant planning and looking over his shoulder. But he felt some kind of obligation to this beanpole of a girl, after all that he's done, and done to her, because of how he knew she felt about him, one-upping her suggestion almost instinctively; and he said something he didn't mean, which wasn't too out of character on its own, but Luke was growing increasingly concerned that the gods were taking him a bit too seriously.

His first inkling that something wasn't _quite_ right was the fact he never, actually, went to the Underworld, which is a pretty important part of being dead.

It wasn't like he stayed floating above his body, watching himself bleed heroically from his armpit (yeah, theoretically, it was a great place to put his vulnerable spot; hard to hit, sure, but in practice it was kind of lame to die from a stab to the armpit, ugh) like in the movies. His vision tunneled over Annabeth's crying face and then there was an expected blackness, a loss of sensation; but the blackness didn't lift, and after some amount of time he grimly thought maybe this was some punishment in Tartarus, to be removed from his senses, only having a floating consciousness to replay every mistake _ad infinitum_; was this how the monsters were reincarnated in the belly of the pit? But he was sure he'd still have to go through the judgment process first…unless he had screwed up so royally that he couldn't redeem himself; bleeding and ultimately falling in front of his father's seat on Olympus had not, in effect, saved him from falling directly to the depths of the Underworld that even Hades couldn't tame.

Objectively, it's almost fair; resurrect a tyrant out of Tartarus, get reborn in Tartarus. He can't believe he thought stabbing himself would really change anything, is almost ashamed; like his life was so monumental compared with the war he built. Which he did build, and while he was honest with Annabeth and Percy in their parents' throne room, he can't deny to himself it was an impressive feat, even if it was ultimately misguided and, yes, manipulated for someone else's purpose.

So he stayed in the blackness, trying very hard not to think for an indeterminable amount of time, which he also tried not to think about. He was almost convinced he was used to the emptiness when he felt a shift underneath him; which should not make sense; he did not have a body to feel with. He almost reasoned it away when he heard it, and by "it," he meant anything, which should have also been impossible:

"It is a shame my fool son didn't know what to do with you. But I will put you to use; have saved you from the Underworld, and will make your efforts with Kronos meaningful. Meaningful, as you have always intended yourself to be."

* * *

**PJO and HoO do not belong to me. **

**Feedback is appreciated!**

Yeah, so I _know_ I need to be working on BtN, (and I am!) but sometimes things just hit you and this is actually directly related to the fact that I read all the PJO and HoO books in like 3 days over Winter Break and now my brain and I can't even do anything else.

Anyway this is just a prologue to get the idea out of my brain and motivate me to finish the rest of it. Woo. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

It was taking longer than Nico anticipated. Much longer, actually. He knew he hadn't fully recovered from the fight at his dad's temple, but he hadn't expected it to slow him down _this_ much. He may as well have been eleven again. Idly, he wondered if this wasn't also connected to the statue's magic, steadily sucking at his power, or preventing him from getting back to his full capabilities; was this the gift that was supposed to give them an edge over Camp Jupiter? After nearly collapsing in Sardinia and seeing Reyna and Hedge no worse for wear, he was close to convincing himself it had something to do with Nico's…_aversion_ to Annabeth; Athena was known for a vindictive streak. Then again, she was also known as disliking Percy Jackson. He shoved the thought away irritably. He was exhausted; each jump took more energy than the last; already he had to make his two planned jumps into four, with breaks in between. He was also going southeast when we meant to go northwest, but he would rather eat Zeus' sandals than mention it; they hadn't pointed it out either, thankfully, hopefully oblivious to the fact. He would get them back on track tomorrow, after he got a chance to eat and _rest_. He told himself they weren't losing _that_ much time, but couldn't stop worrying that they were. For her part, Reyna seemed to be trying to be diplomatic, though the corners of her mouth got tighter with each stop, shoulders stiffer, strapped to Annabeth's _mom_ (he couldn't think of it any other way; he was always exceptionally good at torturing himself, had a real gift for it, actually). Coach Hedge, however, was not so quiet.

"I thought we were takin' the fast track, Cupcake! I coulda gotten there on foot by now!"

Nico pressed his forehead on the cool base of the statue, sitting cross-legged in front of it. He was at his limit with the satyr's complaining and megalomaniac boasts already, and it had been less than a day. "Is there any _particular_ reason you're so eager to throw yourself in the middle of a war zone, you old goat? Though if you're that sure, I'll gladly strap this thing on _your_ back and send you paddling in the Atlantic, seriously."

Hedge's ears were carnation pink, but he managed to choke out "Ain't no sissy like you, boy! Do I need any other reason than that?"

Reyna rose from her position perched on the corner on the statue's base to stand between them (noticeably taller than Nico, ugh, his male pride couldn't _take_ much more after Italy), with the practiced ease of one used to breaking up testosterone-induced pissing matches.

"Nico is helping us tremendously, Coach Hedge. I understand you're anxious to get back home –"

"I ain't _anxious!_ I'm ready to kick some Roman – "

"Gods alive let's just go, I can make another trip before we crash a few hours if it will silence the nanny goat."

Hedge's face was colored puce with indignation but he didn't respond, silenced by the look of warning Reyna sent him. Apparently he did have some survival instincts after all.

"If you're sure." Reyna said coolly, slipping the harnesses back onto her shoulders. Coach Hedge did the same, with a sigh like he was being tremendously put-upon by doing so. Nico's upper lip curled as he fastened his own. He didn't even give them the usual count to three before stepping into the shadows of the building they had parked next to.

* * *

When they reached Edessa, he became instantly, unwaveringly certain the gods were playing with him, his 'conversation' with Cupid had not gone unheard, and, Gods, he hadn't even thought about _actually_ telling his dad, not in this lifetime, maybe when he was already dead, but there goes that hope. The sign said, quite clearly (clearly in Greek, anyway) "Edessa: City of Waters," and sure enough around the whitewashed stone buildings there were fountains and waterfalls and little ponds though he was _certain_ he picked a landlocked town for a _reason_, and immediately he decided to risk another jump, even just one town over, but Reyna slipped the straps off her shoulders tiredly and leaned over, hands on her knees. He hadn't thought about it, but she was definitely still tired from her own solo tryst across the ocean. She was just being a better sport than he was, not that that was new.

He felt some kind of weird kinship with the praetor, though he was loathe to admit. As a rule, he tried to avoid that with everyone. At first he chalked it up to her hair; thick and dark and worn in a braid like Bianca used to. As an "ambassador" (really, he was surprised anyone bothered with that farce, it was obvious he was only there to watch Hazel) to Camp Jupiter, he had worked with her enough to respect the enormous responsibilities she shouldered, and shouldered without complaint. But since leaving the _Argo II_…there was an undeniable similarity to their situation, the silent _runner up_. He wouldn't ask her about Jason, _definitely _wouldn't offer any commiserating involving a certain son of Poseidon, but he was good at reading people, and was especially good at recognizing what he saw in himself daily, that they both didn't love their respective thick-headed demigod enough to be happy for them being happy with someone else.

Nico grit his teeth. He had dealt with the hot weight behind his ribs for years, an anchor alternately pushing and pulling, and could do it for another night, but only because his feet were swaying, Reyna looked drawn and irritable, and he thought he heard an indelicate rumble from Hedge's stomach, which when combined which would inevitably lead to bruising. _I swear, Jackson, once you save the world or whatever you will _so _owe me – no, no after this is done I'm going somewhere I won't have to see you and that girl suck face every five seconds you can pay me back by never speaking to me _ever again_ –_

"This is a tourist-y place, everything should be in the middle of town where it's easy to find. Let's go."

"…Shouldn't someone stay behind to guard the…weapon?" Reyna clearly still had trouble viewing the block of granite as something that would deter war, trusting Annabeth's instincts alone.

"You're right. Hedge can stay with it."

He expected the outraged sputtering behind him and continued to walk away, trying to roll the ache out of his back, awkwardly kneading at his own shoulders. After a pause, Reyna's steady steps followed, leaving the Coach no other option but to sit pouting at the base of the statue, angrily shoving patches of grass into his mouth.

Reyna caught up with him quickly.

"Is it safe to stay in the middle of a field?"

"We'll be able to see any attacks easier than if we were in the woods somewhere." He hoped he sounded reasonable, in truth he was so eager to get away from the thing he hadn't thought of moving elsewhere.

She made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat, pulling a well-loved brown leather wallet out of the pocket of her jeans, examining a wad of euros critically.

"You're prepared."

"To eat? Always."

* * *

Nico forwent the use of silverware, leaning up against the building and gorging himself on spanakopita, deliberately ignoring the stares of passersby. The Mist hid a lot, but bad table manners were not among them. Reyna met him outside after several minutes, his meal almost totally gone, holding a paper plate of pork souvlaki in one hand, a bottle of _Visinada_ in the other.

"We forgot Hedge."

Nico made a show of waving his extra napkins in front of his face, mouth still full. Reyna rolled her eyes, moving to start on one of her skewers. He had started to turn away from the restaurant, intent on walking back to the statue, when he saw a not-quite-dead man, and not the kind he was used to seeing. He choked on the spinach still in his mouth.

_"You aren't to mention it. You will feign ignorance if asked. For all intents and purposes, he has been processed and is in the reincarnation process. There were no irregularities concerning his death, and until they lose interest and forget about him, that is what happened."_

Reyna was looking as concerned as was possible around mouthfuls of marinated pork, standing at his shoulder as he looked on to the fountain several yards to his left, where Luke Castellan sat plain as day, looking very much alive, which shook him more than he would ever admit, eating small, powdered sugar covered cookies from a paper cone. Nico's breathing went shallow.

_What are the odds. What are the _odds _he would be in this town? How has he even kept his body?_

"Nico?"

He shook his head, cleared his throat, and was prepared to tell her it was nothing, just a ghost, _ha ha_; he couldn't handle the never-quite-dead son of Hermes on top of impending Giant domination and his forced confession in Italy leading him to the small Greek town of waters, was sure it would be too much, he would snap. But her eyes followed his line of sight, naturally, you don't get to be in her position without being observant.

"Is he one of yours? From your Camp I mean?"

"…Was."

She wiped her hands on her jeans absently, tossing her now empty plate and bottle in the bin closest; how long had he been standing there that she had finished her whole meal?

"And you aren't asking him for help why?"

Nico nearly yelped. "What? Wh- why would I?"

She first looked at him like he was an idiot, before she started to look worried. "I don't know, Nico, maybe because the earth goddess is about to rise and your camp is about to go to war?"

Nico went to throw his own plate away. "He's too old. We don't have legacies and veterans hang around like you do. If they live through camp our congratulatory gift is to leave them alone for the rest of their life. "

"Don't lie to me."

The praetor was back. Nico grimaced to the trash bin before turning around, face blank.

"Does it matter?"

"You tell me." Then she was _walking towards_ him, with no fear because she had no way of knowing the body sitting on the fountains edge, now crumpling his paper cone in his hands and looking up at the sky with his face scrunched in concentration had revived the Titan lord and killed, backstabbed, and wreaked general havoc on his Camp and everyone who bothered to care about him. And Nico could hardly motivate his own legs to go after her, barely within earshot as she came to stand in front of him, shoulders back and arms crossed, introducing herself.

"I'm the praetor of the Twelfth Legion, Reyna. My camp is on its way to obliterate yours and the gods are about to fall to the earth goddess and her Giants. Why are you here?"

And Castellan had the gall to look bemused.

* * *

**I do not own PJO or HoO.**

**Feedback is appreciated!**

Edessa is a real place, I looked at a map of Greece and picked it out because it sounded neat, then I googled it to help with my description and sure enough the first thing that comes up is its official website where it says "Edessa: City of Waters" and I almost died. It must have been meant to be.

Nico has some antiquated, cisheteronormative views of masculinity, too, doesn't he? Poor dear. ;D


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

She likely would not have cared if she weren't already having such a bad day. Reyna was not blind or stupid; Nico obviously didn't want to talk about it, wanted to get away as quickly as possible. But she _was_ having a bad day, and she couldn't let it go. She was uncomfortably aware they were losing precious time, she was exhausted from her trip and really needed to crash, but she felt irrevocably off center after seeing Jason and Piper on the _Argo II_, and irrationally felt that this would anchor her in some way.

Far be it from the truth to say she didn't want to find Jason after he disappeared; but she did hope, in the most secret part of her heart, that the space would help her sort things out. Reyna knew most people assumed she held a candle for her fellow praetor, but it wasn't…like that, and she wasn't sure she could explain it if she wanted to. It wasn't really romantic, whatever it was. She wasn't jealous of Piper; she felt more that maybe she _should_ be. Seeing them made her uncomfortable because it brought up all the feelings she wanted to be able to understand; she liked talking to Jason, liked running Camp with him and taunting Octavian at every available opportunity. She trusted him implicitly. But despite all the barbs and insinuations, from Dakota and Octavian and _everyone else,_ she wasn't really interested in dating or relationships or –

So her head was throbbing with things she didn't want to think about, shoulders stiff from lugging around what she privately felt was a useless, _Greek,_ shot-in-the-dark, and she saw no other option but to do what she was most comfortable doing; taking charge and ignoring complaints; leading her, naturally, to another scarred blonde. Naturally.

"Well?"

He stuck his hand out, rising from his sitting position on the fountain's edge. "Luke."

She didn't accept it. "Luke. Well?"

The affable grin on his face stretched the part of the scar around his mouth white. She wanted to wrap her hands around something and squeeze. "Reyna. Are you the one she told me to wait for?"

Her neck prickled. Nico stiffened at her side, moved to situate himself between them. Reyna was only briefly irritated – she was praetor, had found her way off of Circe's island before he was able to hold a sword properly, had made the trip to Rome unaided, who did this little squirt think he was? – until her ego was quieted by the anxiety rolling off him in waves; he moved like he was approaching a feral animal. What had she missed?

Luke's face lit up briefly with surprised recognition. "Nico. You've…gotten taller." He finished lamely. Did he look ashamed?

"You should go." Nico spoke lowly, measured and even. Something was definitely wrong.

"I, ah, can't, actually. One way ticket."

Reyna tried very hard to not look as confused as she felt. "Luke," she asked slowly, "why are you not at your camp?"

"He doesn't have one."

Luke looked stung, eyes drifting to his feet. "Nico, I'm sorry. Has Percy –"

"What does _he_ have to do with anything?" Nico asked sharply.

Luke's hands were up, placating, "I just didn't know what he told you. He and Annabeth were – "

"It still wouldn't have anything to do with why you're here."

This was not going according to plan, and Reyna was getting seriously annoyed.

"That's enough. Explain."

Nico's mouth snapped shut instantly, arms crossed defensively and looking anywhere but her direction. Well, that narrowed her options down. She pulled her sword from its place at her hip, holding it in a loose but ready stance low in front of her.

"Luke?"

He pursed his lips for a moment, before calmly looking her in the eye. "The shortest version is that I have been sort of-reincarnated by Gaea."

Her ears were ringing. There were so many things she needed to know, but one – "Sort of?" She echoed lamely.

"I don't think I ever really died, but I wasn't…" His brow furrowed. "People are staring."

At that, Nico seemed to decide to stop acting like a brat. He pulled his own sword. "Let's take this back to the statue." Reyna nodded numbly, moving to flank Luke's other side, half a step behind.

"Let's do that."

* * *

In the walk from the square to the field where Hedge sat, half awake at statue-Athena's feet, Nico "lost" the napkins from his dinner he intended to give to the satyr. And by lost, Reyna meant she flung them roughly from his pocket to the ground as they moved through the residential district to the outskirts where they had left him. Nico was so alarmed at the sudden movement he nearly took her left arm off with his sword before looking at her with eyes that said clearly _this woman has lost it._

"I don't want him there while we talk. He can go get dinner so we can speak…candidly." She answered briskly. Her mind had not slowed down since hearing Luke's bizarre proclamation. "Sort of" reincarnated? By Gaea nonetheless? She didn't know if such a thing were possible. And there was bad blood between Luke and Nico, but she couldn't begin to reasonably guess what caused it. He had mentioned Percy – something had happened between them. _"I just didn't know what he told you"…_about what?

Sure enough, when they roused the Coach from his near-slumber he was so affronted by his lack of dinner that he seemed to ignore their new guest completely, storming off in a flurry of "_just had one job_"s and "_I don't ask for much_"s.

Reyna turned and sat, falling into the routine she had perfected in her office back at Camp. _I am affected by nothing, I am angered by nothing, I am praetor. I'm in control here._

Nico sat awkwardly, one knee up to his chest, hands twitching restlessly, several feet away, while Luke sat cross-legged right in front of her, eyes fixed curiously on the statue looming at her back.

She counted to five.

"I was supposed to die fighting Kronos."

Reyna exhaled lowly.

"You were supposed to die after _stabbing yourself_ because you were _housing_ Kronos." Nico snapped at her right. Reyna's eyebrows rose.

"Is that true?"

"Why would I lie?" Nico sputtered, but her eyes were trained on Luke's face: wincing, pulling the scar taut.

"Yes. I helped resurrect him, then he used – then I let him use –" He was frowning, looking at Nico. "I was on Mt. Olympus, and he almost won. But I ended up not being as submissive as he expected."

"Percy was there." Reyna offered. She hadn't known him long, but knew the son of Neptune was generally in the center of any given catastrophe. That would explain Luke's words earlier.

"Percy and Annabeth helped me. They kept me awake so I could –" he broke off abruptly, looking pained. Reyna thought she would feel awkward discussing her botched suicide too. Feeling generous, she decided to help direct the conversation elsewhere.

"Why?"

He let out a rugged sigh. "I was mad at the gods." He may have flushed lightly. "At my dad –"

"No. It's not important now why you helped Kronos, we're short on time." At her right, Nico gaped unabashedly. "You mentioned Gaea. Why you?"

"You mean _how_." Nico was up and pacing now. "That's the important part. We'll never know why Gaea does anything; and does it matter? It's obviously bad." He looked frantic, the sun was going down and it caught the already dark hollows under his eyes; Reyna felt unsettled looking at him. This was not the Nico she was used to. "You never came to the Underworld for processing. Where did you go? How do you still have your body? We put it on a pyre like everyone else's. How did you do it?

"Nico, calm down." Reyna spoke as smoothly as possible, though the earth was trembling faintly beneath her.

"I…I don't know." Luke ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. "I thought you might – I mean your dad –"

"Has been _covering_ for you! Give us some answers!"

"You think the Earth Goddess sat down to have a nice long chat with me after telling me she was going to _use_ me? She doesn't answer to anybody!"

Reyna felt a flood of instant understanding at Nico's wariness around this man earlier; she saw his eyes grow harder as he hissed the words out through his teeth, shoulders filling with the tension that precedes swift movement. Luke could be dangerous if he chose to be, she was sure.

"Luke, do you have any ideas as to why? We don't expect you to know everything. No one can guess her motives completely." Reyna interjected firmly, eyes locked on Nico, who looked close to mutiny.

"She said…" He rolled his shoulders as if he was trying to shake off carrying a great weight, eyes closing. "I thought I was being reborn in Tartarus. I couldn't see or feel anything…but I still remembered who I was, I remembered everything. It was like that for a long time. Then I felt something move, and I heard her. She said…that Kronos didn't know what he was doing with me. But that she would make use of me, and that she had saved me from the Underworld."

"Impossible," Nico murmured, staring at Luke, transfixed.

"I woke up here, maybe a day and a half ago, in an alley. I heard her again, she said to wait for the leader of the twelfth. I still don't really know what your title means."

Reyna felt a chill drop to the pit of her stomach. She licked her lips nervously.

"And that was all?"

"She didn't say anything about killing you." He offered flatly, eyes back on the statue of Athena. "What did you say about Camp being at war?"

"None of your business." Nico snapped. "Reyna, we should go. She's watching him, and that means she's watching us. We shouldn't have stopped anyway."

"Nico, you can't make another trip right now. None of us can, we need to rest." She looked at Luke. "And we can't just –"

"Yes we _can!_" He hissed.

"Nico, I'm sorry, I didn't plan things to happen this way." Luke moved to stand, but Nico moved over to where Luke was now half-kneeling in less than a second, sword at his throat.

"I don't want to hear it."

Reyna stood to her full height between them, hand on the glinting black blade. "Nico, that is _enough_."

"My sister died trying to get to Atlas you know. To save Annabeth after you took her."

Luke's shoulders slumped. "I don't know what you want me to say."

Reyna sighed. "Nico, go take a breather. Make sure Hedge isn't causing a scene." He opened his mouth to protest "Nico, think about it. He's the best lead we have on Gaea right now."

Huffing, Nico withdrew his sword jerkily, turning on his heel and all but sprinting back to the middle of town.

She turned back to Luke, now resting on the balls of his feet. "Let me fill you in, I guess."

* * *

**I do not own PJO/HoO.**

**Feedback is appreciated!**

Reyna is my patronus, I'm pretty sure. I especially love an aromantic/greyromantic Reyna; I need this to be canon in the worst way, it would be a nice change from all the monotonous love triangles am I right?


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